The great sandwich smacking of 2011.

That was horrible. We were just sandwich smacked. WE BARELY GOT OUT ALIVE.

It was an exploding, rotten sandwich, with icky mayonnaise sauce, coming out from everywhere like lava. This game was a mayonnaise sandwich of ultimate catastrophe.

My feelings can best be expressed through the following clip from the classic 1976 movie “Network,” starring Faye Dunnaway, William Holden and Peter Finch.

And YES. You have to watch the WHOLE THING.

If you want to see the play-by-play torture, scroll down for drunken ramblings. In the meantime, DO WHAT THE VIDEO CLIP SAYS.

LET’S GET MAD, PEOPLE! I am a human being! My life has value!

Get up out of your chairs. Get to the window. Open it. Stick your head out and yell, “I’m mad as hell and I’m not going to take this anymore!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

I CAN’T HEAR YOU! And if I can’t hear you, HOW IS TITO GOING TO HEAR YOU????

PS- Tomorrow we start a new campaign. PUT LACKEY ON THE DL. Because I can’t take this tomorrow too.

Conclusions I have drawn from this game? The Red Sox are afraid of the letter “P.”

PS- You KNOW you are in trouble when Beckett is on the “what went wrong” list and BOBBY JENKS is on the “what went right” list. God help us all.

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—————-

New bar. Get here 6th inning.

Yeah. I saw that.

All of that.

Why Josh? Why?

Adding to my frustration, sandwich game is on a television that is smaller than my computer. It takes me 20 minutes (and I COUNT) to get one of the 12+ big people televisions on the game. They are watching the Florida-South Carolina game. ON EVERY TELEVISION. Really? REALLY????

So, by the time I get my computer out to fake work and really blog- it’s the bottom of the 7th. I cannot talk about the evils that I saw in the 6th. No. I cannot.

And now this Morales guy is stressing me the frick out.

So, new bar. Closer to where I live. Farther from Boone. I think I’m in… *gasp* local territory.

Clearly, I am the only one in here with a job.

Does that sound judgmental? I do try not to be judgmental.

Okay, Morales. We’re cool. 9:05 p.m.

—

Okay. This big people tv is pissing me off too. It has all these little sparkly flaws in the screen. Is that what not-HD is like? I am going to do the bar dance. I see it. All. Around. The. Bar. The strange bar. Where I know no one. And I really think that guy’s drink is really a tobacco spittoon. Ew. Ew-ew-ew.

Make. It. Stop.

My bartender has to be seventeen. Has to be. Seriously.

—

Wow. Just got a phone call from a really sweet guy I haven’t talked to in like a year. Because he moved. It was clearly a pocket dial. But how sweet to pretend he was calling to check up on me.

—

NO. I DO NOT WANT A PBR. I AM DRINKING A SAM ADAMS! SEE? IF I NEEDED ANOTHER DRINK, I WOULD NOT BE PORING OVER MY COMPUTER DOING FAKE WORK AND WATCHING A GAME.

This. This is called AVOIDING EYE CONTACT WITH YOU.

—

I think this was a bar fail. Hi, McDonald. 9:11. That strike hurt my soul.

—

AND another thing. There are subtitles. Which is smarmy keen, really. Except that I can’t see any stats. Or anything, really.

—

Hmmm. Maybe that wasn’t a pocket dial.

But probably.

I am conflicted.

—

You know. My mother (the mother that wants me to marry Reddick and not my soulmate Kevin Youkilis) says I should never go to bars alone. Of course not, I say.

—

Jason Varitek. He looks good today.

Oh, and a close up of Kevin Youkilis. Not while Tek is batting, kids, you’ll distract me! The way the stadium just glistens off his bald head.

But also about how kickass awesome the Sox offense is. Seriously. WHERE IS THAT?

Padres. Pirates. Phillies.

OHMYGOD. We have something against the letter “P.” I will drink another beer and analyze this revelation privately. Perhaps on a napkin. 9:16. One out. Top of the 8th. Rallyin’ time. Right? Right?

—

STOP TALKING ABOUT JAMES SHIELDS!!!! THIS IS A BOSTON GAME.

—-

The subtitle gods can’t spell.

Why are you even playing? You’re like an insta-out!!!!!!! CAMERON! Add a del- before your name and call you loser.

You heard me.

—

Not even my Boston beer can save us now.

—-

9:19. Scut. Fricktastic. 2 outs.

—

DAMN YOU, SCUT. 9:20.

—

Okay. When a girl is yelling at a television screen and throwing coasters, DO NOT APPROACH HER. Tell your friends.

—-

I am using the commercial break to analyze this guy’s jellyfish tattoo. I asked him if I could take a picture of it so you could analyze it too (I didn’t tell him I would put it on the internet) and he was like “no.” He doesn’t seem to want to talk to me. He’d rather spit into a cup.

I am delightful, I say. Not only should you want to talk to me, you should be astounded and honored that I want to take a picture of your tattoo.

He opens his mouth to speak.

SHHH. The game is back on.

Some people.

—

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Bobby Fricking Jenks.

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Well, now that I’ve alienated everyone around me…

—

Okay. Out 1. You didn’t do that Jenks. That was god. Don’t get cocky.

Why????? Is John Lackey really going to pitch tomorrow? Really-really? Are you sure he’s not going to get on the DL? Maybe he’s already there and I just don’t know it. You’d tell me, right? You’d tell me?

Cameron- is that a tattoo on your neck? Remind me to google that later.

Is it just me or did Jenks trim his stupid goattee a bit? How do you spell goatee? Oh.

—

Yeah. Strike three. Sit the frick down.

Yeah, I don’t know if that was a strike either. But I’m sure you deserved that call. You know, for being a bad person or something.

—-

9:27. Chase Utley. You look painfully normal. Bobby Jenks. Sigh.

WHAT WAS THAT, JENKS? Did the baseball dirt LOOK like a catcher’s mitt?

Excuse me, random guy at bar? WHAT THE HELL DOES IT LOOK LIKE I’M WATCHING?

Okay. I’m wearing a Fenway t-shirt and a sour disposition. WHO DO YOU THINK I’M ROOTING ON? Look. I can’t be expected to answer your stupid questions.

Did you see that? That was my husband. MY HUSBAND. Thanks, Youk. Bobby Jenks, you should kiss his shoes.

—–

We have really Posada-ed ourselves, haven’t we?

—-

2 outs. One on first. There is no sound. I am so confused about these mystery calls.

I feel like Youkie and I are playing our own private game of baseball charades.

The guy behind me has really big teeth. I’m just saying.

Hi, Jason Varitek.

I don’t think they’re real.

The teeth. Not Jason Varitek.

I should give this guy gum or something. You know. As a test.

Anyone have any gum?

—-

9:32. “A full cout,” subtitle says. I think you mean COUNT.

Cout Dracula. Ahahahahaha.

Time for another beer.

NOW I’m ready for that PBR. Thanks.

—-

My name? Argentina. Argentina Jones. I’m a mathematician, you see. Solving mysteries through math. Like in 3-2-1 Count Down and that show called “Numbers.”

Of course I’m being serious.

Your name? Kip? Seriously?

Don’t laugh, Lauren. That’s rude.

—-

Yeah. Bar fail. It is the bottom of the 8th. STILL. TWO ON BASE (THANKS, JENKS). 9:35. TWO OUTS.

—

Hi, FDA. I’m glad you’re out there somewhere. Like in Fievel. Commenting from afar but looking at the same moon. Except it’s not a moon. It’s Bobby fricking Jenks.

Josh Beckett makes my soul cry.

Now, I don’t know what happened. I was doing that job thing. So maybe they said something to you, Beckett. Maybe they insulted rocket scientists or something. I don’t know. But I’d like an essay, at least 5 paragraphs, on my desk TOMORROW, explaining exactly what happened and how you sure as frick won’t let it happen again.

Cranberry girl, you do realize, don’t you, that trading the guy is even better than the DL? And yes, Theo was also drinking in a bar and watching the Sox lose when he decided to sign Lackey to that thirty-five year deal for $417 billion in the first place.
And you know WHY he signed Lackey? (No, why?) To KEEP HIM AWAY FROM THE YANKEES!!! It’s actually funny, if you’re drunk enough.

Well…no Carl Crawford (injured)…no David Ortiz (how about that DH rule)…playing Darnell McDonald fifth…Mike Cameron playing period…lost four or last five…Beckett having not pitched for almost two weeks because of whatever…and then there was Cliff Lee. Why Boston let him “go” on only five pitches in the first inning was puzzling. I read Adrian Gonzalez is headed to the outfield tonight so Ortiz can play first. Dustin Pedroia made a joke about having to play second, first and right. I told you folks not to worry in April and I will tell you again not to worry…let’s see what the Sox do at trading time to shore up rotation…and maybe RF. Any prospects in the farm system named “Sam Adams?”

It is Bruce…and for that matter…while I know Lauren’s name is Lauren (because she’s very likely to speak to herself AND us) I don’t believe I recall YOUR real first name FDA…(wink smile). Seriously, we know the Sawx are hurting right now but we respect Boston and we’ll take any wins we can get. Hell, if you get past our starters we’re toast. The entire bullpen is on the DL.